


Before the Dawn

by Elizabeth Culmer (edenfalling)



Series: Out of Season [11]
Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Calormen, Family Issues, Fictional Religion & Theology, Fifteen Minute Fic, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Royalty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-22
Updated: 2015-07-22
Packaged: 2018-04-10 17:15:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4400459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edenfalling/pseuds/Elizabeth%20Culmer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rabadash and Shezan share a few private words on the eve of his coronation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Before the Dawn

**Author's Note:**

> This ficlet was inspired by the 6/25/15 [15_minute_ficlets](http://15_minute_ficlets.dreamwidth.org) word #229.

"I never dreamed that I would mourn his death," Rabadash said as Shezan finished the ancient chant asking Achadith to smooth the change from one Tisroc to the next.

Shezan blew out the last candle, leaving the inner shrine draped in darkness, pierced faintly by the stars and the waning gibbous moon. She knelt at the goddess's feet, barefoot and straight-backed, and said nothing. This time was for Rabadash to face Achadith, the empire's midwife and guardian, and make his peace with her power. It was not Shezan's place to fill his silence. 

Rabadash remained still for a long while, only the soft rhythm of his breath to signal his continued presence. Then he shifted in a rustle and clink of heavy, jewel-bedecked robes, moved away from the closed door toward Achadith's statue, which rose strong and shining from her reflecting pool. He sat on the marble rim and trailed his fingers through the water, let a scatter of droplets fall with soft splashes.

"I would have killed him myself," he said.

Shezan watched the ripples in the pool. "Yes."

"I still have no regret for the attempt."

"I know."

"And yet, when I consider that the sun will rise over a world where he no longer squats in his rooms to thwart me, somehow the pleasure of freedom and power is as sand and ashes in my mouth."

"Azaroth's gifts are hard," Shezan agreed. "They come ever with a cost."

"One wonders, in such a case, why they are called gifts at all," Rabadash said, recovering some of the habitual snap to his voice. "Ah, but I have learned my lesson about questioning gods. Fear not, O my sister. I shall paint my face with ash like an obedient son and soon enough life will taste sweet once more."

"As you say, O my brother and O the delight of Tash upon this earth, so it shall be."

"Now you are mocking me," Rabadash grumbled. "Truly it is said, woe unto the man who has sisters, for he shall never know his full measure of respect." He tapped her side with the embroidered toe of his shoe, a token mimicry of chastisement.

"Likewise unto the woman who has brothers, for she shall never know her full measure of peace," Shezan returned, glancing up and sideways to catch his gaze.

Rabadash smiled, a brief twist and flash of his expressive features, quickly subsumed in the mien of grave thought he had adopted in the wake of his curse. "I go now to keep vigil with Tash. Should you repeat my words to any soul -- even to your beloved, upon whose discretion I otherwise rely without reservation -- your death will take days to come and you will greet it with tears of relief. This I promise you, all ties between us notwithstanding."

"I keep Achadith's secrets. Yours are no greater nor lesser a burden," Shezan said. "Go. Nakdeh awaits you in the Courtyard of Bones."

Rabadash rose from his seat and walked swift and sure toward the door of the inner shrine, the gold and jewels of his clothing glinting faintly with reflected starlight. Halfway across the room he paused for one moment, half-turning to face the goddess, but stopped himself with a sharp breath rather than bow or speak any last word of respect.

As Shezan watched, he slid aside the plain gray stone that barred the door, and stepped outward into the start of his reign.

**Author's Note:**

> For reference, this story is set in the year 1020: six years after HHB, two years before [The Courting Dance](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2399957/chapters/5305829), and three years before [Ancient Lands](http://edenfalling.dreamwidth.org/733126.html) and [Silence at the Proper Season](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1079876).


End file.
